wise quite

The 10th House - Our Public Image

The 10th House sits at the very top of our chart and symbolizes our own public image. It is quite common for people to not relate to the sign on the 10th House cusp or the planets that live there. This is because we must grow into the 10th house, it does not come natural to us and it is not unusual for us to detest the qualities of the sign or planets in the 10th House in our younger years. This house shows us how we are perceived in the eye of the public but not so much in our private lives. 

Signs in the 10th House ~

Aries in the 10th House: These people tend to appear to be very passionate about everything that they do. They can sometimes seems a little hyper or overexcited but this comes across in a childlike charm. Other people might see them to be quick to anger even if this isn’t the case. 

Taurus in the 10th House: They tend to appear very calm and level headed. People see them as patient and caring but are also aware that they aren’t pushovers. They appear strong and durable but can also be seen to be quite stubborn and unyielding. 

Gemini in the 10th House: These people may seem to others that they are always “go, go, go” and rarely every slow down! They might seem shallow and “quippy” and unfortunately often have the reputation of a gossip. They seem to be very cunning and mischievous which just adds to their sprite-like charm.

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confession time, here’s what i got

Summary: In which Otabek and Yuri pine for each other a lot, and manage to drag other people into their own problems. (otayuri week day 1! prompt: confessions, otayuri, side pairings viktuuri and saramila, word count: 4095)


Otabek figures out that he loves Yuri when he is twenty-one.

It’s during Yuri’s nineteenth birthday, too. His plane lands exactly at midnight, and he’s rushing to get his baggage as quick as he can to meet his best friend. He sees him the moment he claims baggage – it isn’t hard to miss his long hair or his leopard jacket – and he stretches his arms out as Yuri bolts over to him.

In the next minute, he has him in his arms, and he hears a cheerful, “Beka!” in his ears, and, oh, he realizes. He is in love.

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5

“This time round it struck me that Studio Ghibli had the world’s best studio in terms of potential. You can say that in terms of cinematography, computer graphics, sound recording, personal connections and sincerity toward the work … in every aspect really. But having said that, we’re just a group of average people with poor skills.” (- Hayao Miyazaki) (Open images in new tab!!)

KnB & jealousy: case 1 - MidoTaka (or rather TakaMido?)

Takao sounded quite surprised then. But right away, he recalled something.

And then, he probably realized that could happen a third time if he didn’t take proper care of his ace. That realization didn’t make him exactly pleased.

See, those raised eyebrows? That’s what I call a jealous Scorpio threatening look. And though he usually acts like he’s bossed around by Midorima, when jealousy strikes, seme-sama Takao reveals himself.

Midorima was caught in the act. He could defend himself using attack as a weapon – meaning, being rude to Takao in his usual tsundere way, but that doesn’t happen.

Yes, ladies and gentleman. Even though he’s got this ‘why are you interrupting me, Takao?’ sort of angry look, he doesn’t complain. Instead, he follows Takao quite quickly. Such a wise boy.

Ok but Chris’s handwriting is 👌 and so is Steph’s new haircut.

I know the rumor about Haechan isn’t true but even if it was would y’all really get salty over a 16-year-old boy making a not so wise dating decision?

Let me repeat. 

A 16-year-old boy making a not so wise dating decision

I don’t know what teenagers are like around you guys, but teenagers here tend to make not so wise dating decisions quite often. 

I will repeat again, I know the rumor about him isn’t true. But just because he is an idol doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of making regular teenage mistakes. He is still a normal human being. I don’t see why people get mad at the thought of idols making regular mistakes that everyone does. 

But seriously keep supporting my boy Haechan guys, he needs some love especially now. 

Originally posted by haenyan

How could anyone not love such an angel?

Art History for Dummies

I’m a big art and art history fan. Unfortunately, between college, work, and other commitments I don’t get to create to a decent standard as much as I’d like to but I hope to return to that once the little issue of getting a degree is out of the way. Through time spent looking for work to blatantly plagiarise and actually studying artists’ work for the Leaving Cert., I’ve picked up a decent amount of art history knowledge. If I ever need to give a TED Talk style presentation on something it would be on my favourite art history movements. Although who can tell whether this is because I’m actually a little knowledgeable this field or I’m just incredibly stupid in others.

Regardless, below is a brief outline of not only four of my favourite art movements, but four of the most important and significant art movements in history. Designed to give the art history rookie a decent understanding into art’s biggest movements, you can now be confident that if you ever find yourself in an art gallery, you can charm your way to impressing whatever party you may find yourself with.

Impressionism

Characterised by: Small, visible brushstrokes, use of light, ordinary subject matter, use of and representation of movement

Championed by: Claude Monet, Edgar Degas, Camille Pissaro, Pierre-Auguste Renoir

Impressionism is a 19th Century art movement which came about essentially when a group of artists, tired of the stuffy and outdated standard of art expected in Paris at the time, decided to go in a different direction, in terms of subject matter, technique and style. To make any sort of decent living as an artist at Paris at the time (the place to be for art, what’s changed?) your best bet was to submit a piece of work to the French Salon, Paris’s official art exhibition. However, the selection committee for the Salon were quite particular in what they would display, preferring art done using traditional styles perfected by the old masters and specific subject matter (generally religious or inspired by monarchy in some way). Meaning that anyone who dared to submit anything that varied from this strict set of ideals was fresh outta luck.

Édouard Manet was the artist responsible for bridging the gap between the previous major art movements of romanticism and realism, and the new movement, impression. His piece Le déjeuner sur l'herbe (the luncheon on the grass, pictured below) caused a fair bit of a stir in the art community at the time. Mostly because of the naked prostitute in the forefront (Pro Art History Tip: if there’s a naked woman in a painting from the 19th century, you can be fairly confident she’s a prostitute). This did not sit well with our stuffy friends at the Salon, who when upon seeing this exclaimed “Oh my word, what is this?!” while clutching their pearls (or so I’d like to imagine). It was described as “ugly” and “risqué” in terms of its subject matter (to which I’d say no sh*t Sherlock, that’s the point”). But it did pave the way for true impressionists to make their mark (while Manet was a key figurehead in the impressionist movement, he wasn’t actually an impressionist painter himself).

Claude Monet is the father of Impressionism. His piece Impression Sunrise, featured below, inspired the name of the art movement and truly captures the characteristics of the movement:

Interestingly, a lot of these Impressionist artists were active in Paris at the same time and would often hang out in Parisian bars drinking absinthe (inspiring a Degas piece by the same name). When they all (predictably) were rejected from the Salon, they gave them the ultimate f*ck you by setting up Salon des Refusés, which literally translates to “the exhibition of rejects”, where they could display their work. This went down about as well as you’d expect given the circumstances. Ballers.

Post Impressionism

Characterised By: A more developed use of colour than that of impressionists. Post-impressionists use colour as a way of expressing emotion and are less concerned that things are accurately represented colour-wise. Subject matter is quite ordinary and are not always depicted to scale.

Championed By: Paul Cézanne, Paul Gauguin, Vincent van Gogh, and Georges Seurat.

Despite the (ironically) less than creative name, post impressionism is a really interesting point in art history’s timeline. Impressionism marked the moment that art really started to change rapidly. Post-impressionists rejected the limitiations that impression presented but still took influence from it. Post-impressionism artists continued using vivid colours, often thick application of paint, and real-life subject matter, but were more inclined to emphasize geometric forms, distort form for expressive effect, and use unnatural or arbitrary colour.

Arguably the most famous post-impressionist (and my personal favourite artist) was Vincent Van Gogh, whose huge arsenal of work is recognisable worldwide. Van Gogh famously suffered with mental illness during his lifetime and this is evident in his work, which can border on sinister at times. If you can deal with science-fiction, I’d recommend the Van Gogh episode of Doctor Who (Episode title “Vincent and the Doctor”, season 5), which does an excellent job of portraying Van Gogh’s inner turmoil and why his work remains so influential today. Also, if you’re ever in Amsterdam, do yourself the biggest favour and go to the Van Gogh museum. Splurge and get the audio guide. It’s an incredibly enriching and educating experience. I had a moment in that gallery, I’m not going to lie.

If you don’t have time to watch that Doctor Who Episode in its entirety, at least watch this clip from it (although why they didn’t film this scene in the freaking Van Gogh museum remains a mystery to me):



Vincent Van Gogh “Wheat field with Crows”

Georges Seurat “A Sunday on La Grande Jatte”

Cubism

Characterised By: Subject matter that is rounded, reassembled and almost 3D looking.

Championed By: Georges Braque and Pablo Picasso

Cubism followed post-impressionism and is considered one of the most influential art movements of the 20th Century. In Cubist artwork, objects are analysed, broken up and reassembled in an abstracted form—instead of depicting objects from a single viewpoint, the artist depicts the subject from a multitude of viewpoints to represent the subject in a greater context. Cubism was a turning point in the art world, leading to multiple diverse art movements that would have been unprecedented before.

The most famous artist of this movement was Pablo Picasso. Some people (who are wrong) may put forward the (incorrect) viewpoint that Pablo Picasso wasn’t a very talented artist. These people are (you guessed it) wrong, and if you hear anyone verbalising such an opinion you are responsible to hit them with the FACTS. Pablo Picasso was an incredibly gifted artist, and this included his technical skills. Even as a child he could paint images so realistic you’d think they were a photograph. But he (and pretty much all the other artists I mention here) didn’t limited in the way they created and wanted to branch out in different directions. Some people may look at a piece of art and say that it required no technical skill to complete (which I can place a firm bet that if they tried to do so they’d fail – not because they’re untalented but because we’re talking about the greatest artists of all time here) but that isn’t the point. The point is that these artists we the first people to create art in this style. It’s easy to say it’s nothing special now, after 100 years of looking at this style. But truth be told movements like cubism were nothing short of ground breaking.

Pablo Picasso “Three Musicians”

Pop Art

Characterised By: Influence of mass culture – comic books, advertising, cultural figures and mundane cultural objects.

Championed By: Andy Warhol, Jasper Johns, Eduardo Paolozzi, Richard Hamilton and Robert Rauschenberg

Pop Art is an art movement that took place throughout the mid to late 1950’s that uses elements of popular culture as inspiration. Pop Art is widely recognisable and remains a popular movement in not just art but fashion, TV and social media. Pop Artists often use their work to express certain beliefs (sometimes political), which differentiates it from movements previously discussed here. Its use of recognisable images and people really shifted the direction that modern art was heading in.

Andy Warhol “Campbell’s Soup Cans”

2

My gorgeous poet son

Such a beautiful world that we live in with such wonderful creations within it.
—  Nicole Addison @thepowerwithin
Saga: You should read this

So yeah. Marvel is fucking up. And DC is white as fuck. If you are a comic book nerd of color, your options are limited. And that is okay.

Because I give you Saga.

Written by Brian K Vaughan(you see his name on top of the cover…he wrote this) of Runaways fame, Saga is about the unlikely existence of a child.

Sound ominous yet? Cool.

I have been supplying @rabbitglitter entire volumes of this series before I decided to actually read it.

And it is so good.

So my brief summary probably is not going to sell you on this book so fuck it. Time to get in-depth.

The very first page of the story. You sold yet? Okay fine, you are going to make me work for it.

Saga begins with the birth of the narrator, Hazel. It follows the “Saga” of her parents, Alana and Marko. Well you are probably thinking, “That is not so bad,” well I have not gotten to the fucked part yet. 

That is Marko and Alana. And yes, that little narration is Hazel. Now you are going to notice that throughout the series, Hazel is becoming increasingly more cynical about her infancy and childhood. Of course, this is her telling a story to someone about her fucked up life. You do not know if her parents are still alive, or if anybody in her life stays around. Hazel’s narration is not exactly unreliable, but it kind makes the narrator’s character more apparent as events occur. I’ll get to that later(probably won’t but I have to keep you invested).

The actual main characters are her parents, Alana and Marko. Now if you haven’t noticed by now, Marko has horns and Alana has wings. This is a big point in the story.

Hazel being the special butterfly that she is, has both.

Marko is an ex-warrior who sworn off violence and is going the technical pacifist route. Alana is the acerbic and snarky character, but she is also resilient and loving mother.

Oh did I mention that they were on the run because Alana decided to free her soon to be boyfriend from the prison that her people were holding him in. Yes, Marko was a prisoner of a galactic war with Alana’s people being his enemy.

Oh, shit, Romeo and Juliet without the murder suicide undertones.

This is the day Hazel was born by the way. So Tupac ain’t got shit on her(if you do not get the joke, just read Tupac’s life). 

Your first day breathing made several people lose their breath. And oh yeah, Hazel has seen some shit so she is wise and also quite nihilistic, and who wouldn’t be?

Okay. General setting here is that Alana’s people who are from a planet called Wreath are warring with Marko’s people, who are from one of Wreath’s moons. Because no one wants to destroy the other plaet because it woud cause the end of the other, they outsourced to other galactic forces. In what could only be described as World War I alliance building, several planets were forced to pick a side between planet and moon. 

“Why didn’t I tell you this before?”

It is not important. The fact that this exposition was thrown away in the first issue of the series right after Hazel’s birth tell you that. The setting is not as much as important as it is to properly expanse just how incredible Hazel’s childhood is. She was born in a Galactic War in which her parents were on conflicting sides. One of the main themes of Saga is that what do politics mean to the people you love and instead of giving you the PC answer bullshit, the title shows…it means a lot. Both Alana and Marko lost family and friends to the other side. They both have vastly different cultures. So different that it started a war.

And they still found love for each other. This story begins after the Happily ever After…except shit ain’t so happy. They are on the run. Their child has been marked for death for being a Hybrid between two bitter enemy races. They are fugitives of the galactic law. Oh and who runs this shit?

Prince IV. Yes, this is how we are introduced to the character that makes Alana’s and Marko’s journey a living hell for most of the series.

Prince IV is a sadistic motherfucker with little empathy for anyone beyond his own impulses and desires. He is a robotic television sociopath who just wantonly commits mass murders for the sake of “fuck it, why not.” This is because Prince IV is a survival of a bloody battle and has PTSD scenes depicted on his TV screen just to show you and anyone else who happens to be looking at his screen when he is thinking, just how fucked up this guy is. Yes, he was having sex and had a war flash back of a ripped off horn.

Oh, and Hazel’s narration drops hints of future happenings sometimes because she is telling a story to somebody. People got on tangents, and Hazel is no exception to that.

You kind of figured that there is a lot happening in the story. Because there is a lot happening in this story.

And that is not the only person after the family.

This is the Will. He is a bounty hunter. And like all people who pursue the profession…

He is badass. But he also has a heart.

And that is his partner, Lying Cat. 

So the Will was hired by Marko’s people to hunt him and his wife down because he betrayed the Narrative. The Will is also contracted to bring Hazel alive.

Oh shit.

Everything I have shown you right now is from the first issue. Saga is a fantastic comic. It is really good. There is a reason Image is on the come-up now and days aside from Walking Dead. Support good comic books like Saga with a fascinating and unique story. You are getting sick of Nazi apologizing Marvel? read Saga. Are you sick of the 30 Batman comic books of DC? Read Saga.

So yeah. Read this shit.

anonymous asked:

Soooo in your headcanon, how many kids do you think Zuko and Katara have? How many boys and girls? Names? And who's a fire bender and water bender and maybe a non bender?

So, I’ve done these two posts (Post 1, Post 2) about the steam babies, but now I have a slightly altered headcanon forming, so I’m gonna do it again:

Their first little bundle of joy came two years into their marriage, when Zuko was 23 and Katara was 21. It wasn’t something they exactly planned for, they just never bothered with protection and they promptly fell asleep after the act, so the usual round of contraceptive measures went forgotten. When Katara woke up the next morning, with Zuko still on top of her, dead to the world, she shoved him off and rushed to the kitchen. The stewardess who always prepared that perfect blend of tea had a cup ready for her, but said it was likely too late. 

Sure enough, Katara’s next cycle never came and eight months later, a little bundle of joy enters the world. They name her Kya. 

  • She looks very much like Zuko: golden eyes, raven hair, sharp, angular features as she ages—  though her skin is slightly darker like her mother’s and she also has Katara’s signature waves. 
  • She has her mother’s softness and smile about her.
  • Personality wise, Kya behaves quite a bit like Zuko. She’s wry, a little hot headed, and of course, easily flustered. Like her mother, she has a very strong affinity for helping those in need. 
  • She spends her summers (when school is out of session) helping Katara at the local hospitals and she volunteers with Zuko at animal shelters.
  • She is a firebender, with every bit of her father’s talent and dry wit, and she also takes up hand-to-hand combat. 
  • She never really had a taste for swordsmanship, but she does have a knack with fans, thanks to her Aunt Suki. 
  • Additionally, Kya learned medicinal healing from her mother and learned to read people’s energies with her firebending.
  • On top of all that, Kya excels in history and social justice courses, which shapes her into quite the inspiring heir and future Fire Lord. Her intelligence and passion are what eventually catch the eye of a young earthbender, who she is introduced to by Grandpa Iroh (always the meddler) during a visit to the Jasmine Dragon. 
  • Just a year later, the two marry in the Earth Kingdom when Kya is twenty five (’Very, very young,’ Zuko said, until she sassed him about getting married when he was twenty)
  • Finally, when Kya is thirty five, Zuko abdicates the throne and she becomes the greatest Fire Lord in the history of Fire Lords and has two lavababies (that’s what I’m calling the fire and earth babies) that Zuko and Katara love as much as they love her. 

Just two years after Kya, comes a boy. This time they were actually trying, and Zuko was desperately hoping for another girl, but was super thrilled when he had a son because ‘maybe this one will like swords and stuff.’ They name him Ezra.

  • He’s a sweet-natured little kid, with a whole lot of Katara, Sokka, and Hakoda in his features. Dark skin, blue eyes, wildly wavy hair. They literally refer to him as Sokka’s Mini Me because he looks just like him.
  • Ezra is a nonbender, though neither parent is disappointed by this. Instead they each take time to teach him some of their skills outside of bending. 
  • Zuko trains him with dual swords, broad swords, and even small knives until the kid is basically a deadly weapon himself. Katara teaches him about healing, like she did with Kya, but she also shows him some hand-to-hand combat that is adapted from waterbending.
  • Like I said before, his personality is very sweet and quiet. He’s a bit softspoken, though not afraid to speak his mind when he feels someone has been wronged. 
  • And he’s an actual genius - very, very skilled with mathematics and science… which Sokka just dies over. 
  • Ezra spends much of his teenage years with Sokka in Republic City, and eventually designs the entire rail system for the city. He also establishes greener energy initiatives in the Fire Nation and other parts of the world.
  • It’s actually in Republic City that Ezra grows very close to one of Aang’s daughters, and he proposes to her by blurting out that he’s going to marry her (much like his father did with his mother). 
  • When Kya is crowned as the official heir (probably when Ezra is around 20 and Kya is 22), he marries his fiancee. They take up a semi-nomadic life style, with their home base being Republic City. Though, they spend their winters in the Fire Nation. 
  • Also, he has three children - two firebenders and an airbender.

Finally… after Kya and Ezra and much swearing that they are done with babies (but obviously not done having lots of sex)… Katara learns she’s pregnant again. Only, this time, she’s growing a lot faster and a lot larger than her previous pregnancies, and Zuko, with a look of horror, asks the doctor if it could be twins. The doctor does an exam, and sure enough, Katara’s carrying two little steambabies and Zuko promptly faints. 

He does not, however, faint when the two princes come along: First up, is Lee. 

  • He is born exactly three minutes before his brother and six years five months after Ezra, leaving his thirty-two year old father in disbelief that he has to do the whole newborn thing again after all this time. 
  • What makes it all worth it thought, is Lee looks exactly like Katara, and Zuko loves this because he thinks his wife is much prettier than himself. 
  • Lee is a waterbender. Katara is over the moon (lol) about that. She rubs it in Zuko’s face (playfully) that her element finally won out and she literally hogs Lee during the afternoons and evenings to train him. 
  • Of course, Zuko steals him away when he has breaks between meetings and helps him master dual swords.
  • For his personality… Sweet Agni, Lee is a firecracker. He is their biggest troublemaker, but because he’s one of the babies, he gets away with it all. This makes his siblings very annoyed even though they are frequently getting into trouble with him. 
  • And true to his troublemaker personality, Lee finds Zuko’s Blue Spirit mask (when he’s a teenager) and takes up that disguise to run around Caldera City busting criminals. 
  • When Zuko finds out, they agree to keep it a secret, though Zuko makes a decree that any and all Blue Spirit activity has his stamp of approval.
  • And finally, Lee comes out to his parents as gay in his late teens. Katara smiles knowingly and Zuko immediately declares gay marriage as legal across the Fire Nation. 
  • Lee ends up falling for a young man in the Fire Nation army in his late twenties. And with his parents’ blessing, the two marry and adopt two girls from an Earth Kingdom orphanage and Fire Nation orphanage, respectively. They live together on Ember Island and Lee never gives up his nights as the Blue Spirit.

And lastly, the final twin, named for his departed Uncle, Lu Ten.

  • He looks just like Lee; they are identical twins, after all. The only stark difference is Lu Ten’s gold eyes and his fire bending. 
  • He struggles with the element quite a bit, and because of this, Lu Ten lacks the confidence of his other siblings. 
  • At first, Zuko is a fearful that by training him, he’ll come across as harsh or disapproving like his own father, but Katara gives him the soft encouragements that he needs. 
  • When he turns thirteen, Zuko repeats the journey to the Sun Warriors, taking Lu Ten with him and introducing him to the Dragon Masters. While Lu Ten already knew the truth behind firebending, meeting the dragons provides him with the inspiration he needs to keep at his training and try a few different approaches. 
  • Lu Ten begins working with Katara, learning waterbending forms to use with his firebending, and he finds this style to be much more for him. He ends up being very adept with a rare form of firebending, one that only comes from mixed lineage (*cough* Roku *cough*)— lavabending! 
  • He finds it quite fun to put a literal spin on the “Don’t touch the ground, it’s lava” game that he plays with Lee and Ezra. 
  • As Lu Ten grows up, he realizes his calling isn’t to follow in his siblings’ footsteps of getting married and having children, but to join the United Forces and help keep peace around the world. Plus, he’s a total lady’s man, and thinks it would be unfair to women everywhere if he were to put himself on lockdown. 
  • In the United Forces, Lu Ten rises quickly throw the ranks, until he reaches the position of General. He only steps down when his nephew, Iroh II, is offered the position. 
You Should Know Better Pt. 10

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven) (Part Eight) (Part Nine) (Part Ten) (Part Eleven)

Summary: Last class before Spring Break and someone decides to get handsy.
POV: Joe
Characters: Joe Merriweather, Natalie, Ryan
Word Count: 2200ish
Author’s Note: This is more of a filler chapter. I had bigger plans for this chapter, but I ended it prematurely. 
Quote: “Maybe that’s the point of my so-called ‘shitty punishments’ – make you want more.” 

MASTERLIST

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The Painful Wait. PART 1 (DarylxReader)

Hi guys! I got really bored and came up with this idea of a short Daryl story.


Y/N and Daryl have been close ever since the group took her in when they found her on a supply run. Daryl is extremely overprotective and when the group is attacked by a herd of walkers one night, Daryl gets on her last nerve when he locks her in a cell and refuses to let her help. They get into a huge fight and both of them say some hurtful things. Daryl goes out on a supply run by himself to clear his head, but takes longer than he said he’d be. Days go by and Y/N is a wreck. She can’t stop thinking about their fight and what could’ve been her possible last words to the man she trusts the most. 


(Set in the hiatus between seasons three and four )


Btw guys, requests are open if any of y'all want to dm me for fanfics/one shots/drabble✌🏼


Warnings- strong language, mentions of parental abuse, walker attacks and killings, kind of dirty thoughts and almost smut? mostly fluff & angst tbh

——————————————————————


I woke up. Again. Another night. Another nightmare. Sweat glazes over my brow and my chest is still heaving from the familiar feeling of being drowned. When it all happened… when everyone started to turn, my father didn’t see a way out. He thought it would be better for my sisters and I to die by his hand rather than those of the ‘ungodly undead’. He took me, my little sister Elise and my youngest sister Allie out to the river in our back yard, sat us down and had lunch with us. It was nice. But before I knew it, he had Elise and Allie’s heads under the water. They thrashed and struggled but only for a little while, before their movement halted completely. I was too shocked to move. He looked at me with a glare of madness and despair behind his eyes and lunged towards me. I almost got away the first time around, but he caught my ankle and dragged me backwards. While I was being dragged into the water, I grabbed the bread knife that Dad had brought outside with the rest of the picnic, and as he began to attempt to end my life, I waved the knife around above me in a blind panic until he released my neck and I heard a muffled yelp. I resurfaced and saw my father, helpless and bleeding. The knife had gone straight through his eye socket. 
So, what else could I do but run? I took the bread knife with me for defence against whatever was waiting for me on the outside. 
I lasted a pretty long time by myself. Maybe a year? I don’t know, I lost track of time. But that’s when starvation began to kick in. All the food in the stores had either expired or been stolen. I was the food.
And I sure as hell would’ve been if they hadn’t found me. 
Carl was the first to spot me. It was funny because he was the one who told the others to forget it. Rick and Michonne debated whether they should bring me back to wherever they were going. But amongst all of the debating and arguments, it was Daryl who finally gave in, and quite wisely uttered the words, “fuck it”, taking me in and essentially saving my life.
Ever since, I’ve been part of the family. Carol is like my mom. It’s refreshing, because I don’t remember my real mom all that well. Hershel helped clean me up after they brought me back and has recently been teaching me a load of medical stuff so I can help him out. He struggles, only having a leg and a half. Maggie and Beth support me when I break down. They understand because they’ve lost basically all of their family too. Rick taught me how to shoot and asked me the three all important questions. And Daryl? Daryl and I have been inseparable since.
Anyway, back to now.
Tears stream down my face and I try to get my heart rate back to its regular steady beat. Suddenly, I feel a presence at the door of my cell. It’s Beth, and a wave of comfort washes over me because I know she understands. She gets the nightmares too, you see. About her mom and the rest of her family.

“Hey… Hey, you’re alright…” She coos as she takes a seat on my bunk.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” I ask, wiping away my tears.

“I was already awake and then I heard you, thought I could be of some help. Even though…” she trails off.

“What?” My eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“I know who you really want here.” Beth smirks.

I roll my eyes and giggle a little, as I know exactly what she means. Beth has this fantastical theory that Daryl and I have feelings for each other. I mean, she’s not completely wrong. I’ve developed some feelings for Daryl, being around him 24/7. I haven’t told anyone, not even Beth.

“Shut up, you’re delusional.” I giggle.

“I can go get him if you like? In all seriousness. I know how close you two are and he might do a better job than me.” She offers.

I dwell on the idea for a moment, but I’m soon to deny Beth’s offer when I consider that Daryl had a long day and needs his sleep too. He and Rick barely made it back today.

“No… no, I’ll be okay, it’s unfair on him if he gets woken up because of me. I can’t constantly expect him to wait on me hand and foot every time I have a bad dream. Ain’t right. I’ll just go back to sleep, I’m pretty spent. Thanks anyway, I appreciate it.“ I smile politely.

She returns the smile and begins to walk away, but halts at the door and turns around.

“He likes you, you know. I see the way he looks at you. Haven’t seen anyone look at anybody like that since my Mama was alive. You should seriously talk to him.”

“Beth-”

“Please don’t deny it anymore, Y/N. I can see straight through the both of you.” She smirks and walks away. I fall back, my head hitting the cold pillow and I let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Fuck.”

The next morning, I take a stroll around, grabbing some water and saying my hello’s to Carol, Maggie, Hershel and Glenn, who are all sitting around a table, taking a break.

“Mornin’ guys.” I yawn.

“You mean afternoon,” Hershel chuckles.

“Honey, mornin’ came and went.” Carol laughs sweetly.

“No sleep?” Glenn asks.

“Not a whole lot, Glenny boy.” I reply, rubbing my eyes.

Maggie laughs at my nickname for her lover and rests her head on his shoulder. Rick walks in, sweating and panting, laughing at god knows what. Probably something Michonne said. If Beth is expecting romance, she should expect it from those two, not Daryl and myself.

“Ah look, the dead has decided to rise.” Rick jokes.

“Nothing new there, then.” I retort.

“Well since you’re finally awake, you can go help Daryl keep watch.” The sound of Daryl’s name lifts my spirits up and a smile graces over my face.

“Gun?” I request.

“Tower.” Rick replies. I nod and follow his order, making my way over to the tower.

I reach the top after climbing countless stairs and see Daryl watching over the prison with his crossbow, pacing and waiting for someone- or something- to even try to make an attempt on us.

“Hey Hawkeye, you miss me?” I say, causing him to jump at first, but his tensed-up posture eases at the sound of my voice.

“You’re awake, thought I’d never see the day.” Daryl smirks.

“Shut your face, Dixon,” I laugh. “Barely got any sleep last night.”

“What? Why?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just another nightmare.” I tell him, knowing exactly what’s coming.

“Why didn’t you come and get me? Or at least come into my cell?” There it is.

“Daryl, you had a rough day yesterday and I wasn’t going to be selfish and wake you up.” I sigh.

“I don’t care, you know I give more shits about you than I do about me and-”

“Daryl!” I cut him off. “I’ll wake you up in future, but you barely made it back alive yesterday. You needed as much rest as possible. Plus, Beth was there, she spoke to me a little and then I went back to sleep, it’s no big deal.”

“I just worry about you, y'know?” Daryl sighs, looking at the ground and awkwardly shuffling his feet.

“And I’m so glad that I have you around.” I step towards him and lift his chin so his eyes meet mine. “But I’m a big girl and I can handle myself. Lord knows I did for a year. You just need to relax a little bit when it comes to me, alright?”

“Yeah, alright. I’m sorry.” He smiles lightly.

We stay stood in that very spot for what seems like endless moments.

Make a move, damnit! Make a move!

“Goddamn it, just bang already!” Beth’s voice yells up to us, breaking our concentration.

I clear my throat and step back, pussying out once again.

“So… Seen anything interesting?” I ask, hoping to God that he doesn’t dwell on Beth’s comments.

“Aside from you? Not a whole lot,” he laughs.

What the fuck, was that flirting? Did he just… don’t overthink it, idiot. It was probably nothing.

“You flatter me, Daryl Dixon, you really do.” I smile gently as a lean against the balcony next to my shotgun.

Daryl continues to look over the yards, watching the fences with his crossbow at the ready. Seeing him like this, so protective and strong… let’s just say I don’t have the cleanest of thoughts. His arms tense every single time he sees movement, making me bite my lip just to control myself from audibly groaning. I can only imagine it would feel to kiss him. How we’d start off slow, then really get into it. How I’d jump up and wrap my legs around his waist and he’d push me up against the wall and move his lips to my neck… sucking, biting as I entangle my fingers in his hair and tug on it because I’m so ridiculously turned on and he’d moan into the kiss… Oh my God, what am I doing? I hate to say it, but Beth’s right. I need to talk to him, because this ain’t healthy in the slightest.

“Hey Daryl?” I say.

“Yeah Darlin’?” He responds.

“Y'ever think about stuff?” I ask.

“I think about a lot of stuff, sugar. Gonna have to elaborate.” He replies, his eyes still locked on the ground.

“Just… I don’t know. Ignore me.” I chuckle.

Suddenly intrigued, Daryl turns his head towards me, a smirk ghosting across his lips.

“Come on now, you know I can’t ignore you if I tried.”

“Stuff like finding peace and whatever. Imagine what it’d be like to be finally happy with where you’re at. Like Glenn and Maggie. They’re happy.” I sigh, looking at the floor and twiddling my thumbs.

“You mean settlin’ down?” I look up and Daryl’s directly in front of me.

“Yeah. Somethin’ like that.” I grin.

Daryl and I patrol the tower for a few more hours, laughing, joking and talking about everything and nothing at the same time until Carl and Beth come to takeover.

Later on, in the evening, I take a book from the library and take it back to my cell, light some candles that Glenn bought back on a run, climb up to the top bunk and relax. I attempt to get comfortable, but the knots in my shoulders prevent me from such a luxury. I rub them slightly and hiss at the aching, just as Daryl walks past my door.

“You good?” He asks, clearly concerned.

“Yeah, it’s just my back, it’s killing me.” I groan.

Daryl wanders into my cell and jumps up onto the top bunk next to me.

“Turn around,” he instructs.

I do as he says and face away from him, taking a deep breath in, trying to stop myself from feeling so damn tense. All of the stress flies away when his calloused hands firmly rub my back and shoulders. I hum in satisfaction and euphoria, my muscles easing under his blissful touch.

“Fuck, that feels good,” I breathe out.

“The least I can do, sugar.” He chuckles.

Amidst the calming aroma of the candles and my mind finally calming itself down, I feel my hair being moved from over my left shoulder to down my back, followed by long, lingering kisses on the side of my neck.

“Daryl…” I moan in a whisper.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Daryl mumbles. “You’re all I think about, darlin’… you’re all I want.” He seductively whispers.

“Oh, fuck it.” I groan, turning around and slamming my lips into his, grabbing at his vest and tearing it off of his torso like a kid opening a gift on Christmas morning.

“God, I need you,” Daryl moans while his hands roam around my body. “We need to be quiet. That is, if you really want this?” He asks, breaking the feverish kiss momentarily to double check that I’m ready and sure.

I brush his hair out of his eyes, and kiss his forehead. “I literally don’t want anything else.”

Daryl’s lips find their way back to mine, and his hands rest at the small of my back, pulling me even closer to him as I straddle his lap.

However, the moment the tips of my fingers reach his belt buckle and he gets my shirt half way up my body, when we hear distressed yelling from downstairs.

“You hear that?” I ask worriedly.

“Walkers! Everyone! Walkers! There’s too many! They broke through!” Carl’s voice echoes through the halls, troubling everyone. The sound of rushing and panic already rings through the prison.
Daryl and I spring into action, leaping off of the top bunk and re-clothing. I blow out the candles and grab my gun, but to my dismay, I hear the dreaded sound of a lock and key. I spin around to see that Daryl has locked me in my cell, leaving me completely helpless.

“Daryl? Daryl, what the fuck! Let me out!” I shout after running up to the cell door and grabbing onto the bars.

“I ain’t risking you getting hurt, Y/N. You’re staying here, end of discussion.” He orders.

“Bullshit! Let me out right now, you son of a bitch!” I yell, shaking the door.

“You need to be quiet!” He snarls through gritted teeth.

“Daryl don’t do this… either you let me out or you stay in here with me. It’s both of us out there or neither. I can’t lose you.” I begin to sob.

“I have to go…” he murmurs, puts my cell’s key in his pocket and runs off to fight.

“Daryl! Daryl, stop! Fuck!” I scream, falling to my knees.

And that’s it. I’m alone. All alone. Not for long though, as I hear the horrifically familiar sound of the throaty moans of Walkers. I immediately rush to my gun and start shooting at the floor below, hitting every Walker that manages to make its way past the threshold. However, even though I manage to kill multiples of them, I run out of rounds and the shots have attracted many more towards me. With nothing sharp or long enough to do enough damage to the brain in my cell, I have no choice but to sit away from the barred door and press my back to the wall as the bloodthirsty undead reach hungrily for my uninfected flesh. I can’t even try to be brave, as if I get close to them, one of them could scratch me and that would be it for little old me.
Moments later, the growling and grunting comes to a sudden halt. I look up from my huddled form to find Rick kicking bodies away from my cell.

“The hell are you doin’ in here!?” Rick yells. Rage sets in as I remember the very reason I’ve been stuck in this god forsaken room while my family risked their lives.

“Ask fucking Daryl, he’s the one who locked me in!” I bellow.

“Goddamn it… where’s the key?”

“Daryl put it in his pocket.” I grumble, sitting on the bottom bunk, attempting to calm myself down so I don’t beat Daryl’s ass when I see him. After a few moments, I hear a key enter the lock of my cell door and anger takes over again until I realise that its in fact Maggie and not Daryl.

“Maggie, are you alright? Is everyone okay?” My rage is blindsided my frantic worry and panic.

“We all made it, we’re okay. Sasha got a little winded, but she’s good,” Maggie finally gets the door open. “Now, before you do anything rash-”

I cut her off mid-sentence by pushing past her and rushing to Daryl to have some damn words.

I spot him walking back up to the building with Glenn, and once more, my temper sets off, causing me to run at him with everything I have. I almost get to him before Rick and Michonne hold me back, preventing me from doing any damage.

“You fucker! How fucking could you!? You asshole, you made me sit and wait while everyone else could’ve been dying!” I shriek.

“I was protecting you!” He yells back in defence.

“Protecting me!? I don’t give a damn about me!”

“But I do!” Daryl cries out, my anger subsiding for a moment.

“Let me go.” I whisper to Michonne and Rick.

“You sure?” Rick asks.

“Do we need to stay close so you don’t go bat shit again?” Michonne offers. Normally I’d laugh, but she’s right.

“No. I won’t hurt him, we just need to talk.” I sigh.

The others begin to walk away, and I swear I hear Glenn make a remark wishing Daryl luck.

“What… what the fuck was that?” My voice is shaky because I’m trying so hard to keep back my frustration.

“I wasn’t about to let you get hurt, damn it!” Daryl exclaims.

“Not fucking cool, Dixon. I had every right to be out here with the rest of you, but you forced me to wait. I’m so sick of you being so damn overprotective. It’s suffocating.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so fucking reckless, I wouldn’t need to be!” He argues.

“Reckless? Are you fucking kidding me? Honestly, Daryl? I care about you, but sometimes I want to fucking shoot you.” I growl.

“Yeah? Do it. Go for it, tough guy.”

“Screw you, Dixon.” I hold back tears, both angry and heartbroken.

“You’re a damn child, y'know that? Juvenile, even.”

“Go to hell, asshole.” I scoff and storm back to the prison.

When I reach the doors, Beth is the first to rush over to me. I’d say Beth is my best friend. I love all of these guys with everything I have, but Beth is truly like my little sister.

“What happened?” Beth queries, obviously worried.

“I don’t… I can’t… please don’t make me talk about it,” I sob.

“Come on, let’s go to my room, you can stay in there tonight.” Beth kindly offers, followed by my appreciative acceptance.

The following morning, I get up early and help Hershel clean up some left over group members with some head wounds and some infected cuts, only after he asks if I’m okay. I just simply nod and tell him I’m over it, which is clearly a lie, but I can see that he doesn’t want to intrude.
When we’re finished up, I ask Rick if I can help out in anyway, but he just tells me to relax because ‘he’s never seen me so unhinged’. Mr Grimes ain’t one for sugar coating.
I return to my cell and pick up the book I fetched from the library last night and continue from where I stopped. And to think I stopped because of something that could’ve completely changed the course of today. My mind wanders back to last night, reminiscing about how his hands felt like electricity on my skin, how his lips were perfectly moulded to fit with mine, how warm he was… how safe he made me feel.
Carol appears at my doorway with a sweet smile and a cup of water in her hand.

“How ya doin’?” She asks and hands me the water.

“I’m alright, I guess. Just feelin’ kinda shitty after the whole thing with me and Daryl last night. Feel kinda bad about what I said to him. Told him to go hell.” I say, almost ashamed of myself.

“Sweetheart, if I know you and Daryl, and believe me I do, you’ll be just fine. You must’ve had good reason to say those things. And plus, he’ll get over it. It is Daryl after all. The man can’t hold a grudge.” She laughs.

“I guess so. I should probably talk to him, shouldn’t I?” I sigh.

“Damn straight. He’ll be back later, I’ll tell everyone to give you some alone time.”

“Wait… he’ll be back? Where did he go?” I ask.

“He went on a supply run. Said he needed to clear his thoughts.” Carol answers.

“Who’s he with?”

“He went by himself.”

The words echo through my mind like a train in a tunnel. How could anyone let him go by himself? Especially when he’s in this kind of state?

“I need to go out and find him. He can’t be alone right now, anything could happen, I have to go-”

“Y/N, calm down! Daryl is perfectly capable of handling himself. He’ll back back real soon. I promise.”

A part of me wants to believe Carol, it really does.
But the logical side of me doesn’t believe a damn word.

Dylan request #1

Request: Dylan request — you moved to Littleton when you were in 4th grade, then Eric moved in a little bit later. The 3 of you grew up as best friends. While you and Eric had a small middle school past (that didn’t last long as you both realized you’re better off as best friends) you did develop a crush on Dylan in high school. You don’t know it but Dylan likes you too. It’s senior year, and Eric has realized what’s going on ages ago. You’re at a party, 7 mins in heaven is the game - go from there :)            

((im so sorry this took me so long!! I’ve been working so hard on this. I hope you enjoy!!))

“Hey, Reb, pass the lighter.” I fumble with the cigarette hanging off my upper lip. Eric threw a red lighter to me. I lit my cigarette and inhaled, staring off blankly in the distance before handing it back.

Eric had been my best friend ever since seventh grade, even though we had a little fling in middle school. We made out one time, behind the shed where they kept all of the P.E equipment. All of those raging 13 year old hormones were pumping and we smooched. I expected it to be magical, like in the movies, but no. It was wet, sloppy, his tongue was like a dagger stabbing in the back of my throat, it was wayyy too toothy, and he left half of my face covered in spit. Needless to say, we decided to go back to being best friends a few days later and agreed to never speak of the event again.

“Yo, y/n.” Eric calls, taking a puff off his cigarette.
“Sup.” I looked up at him from where I was sitting.
“You coming to that party tonight?” He leaned against the fence stood behind us.
“Probably not,” I shake my head. “Everyone that goes to those stupid parties makes me want to kill myself.” I said with a harshness in my voice. I meant it, I really did hate the people that went to our school.
“Okay, listen,” he paused to take another drag of his cigarette, “I hate those fuckers just as much as you, if I had the chance to blow their fucking heads off I would in a heart beat. But this really hot girl invited me and-”
“absolutely not.” I cut him off. “I am not going to be your wing woman at some fucking party.”
“When have I ever been invited to a party by a hot chick before?”
“Never.” I sigh, a slight bit of guilt in my voice.
”Exactly. Fuckin never. Just do me this solid.”
I didnt want to, I really didn’t, but Eric was my best friend. I exhale sharply, “Fine.” The way his face had lit up made it all worth it.


Me, Eric and Dylan had all grown up together. I moved to Littleton, Colorado when I had just turned 9. I met Dylan on the first day of 4th grade in school. I was late for school due to my stubborn Mom who insisted she knew a quick route to the school, despite having lived in the town less than a two weeks. By the time I reached my classroom, I knew that all of the seats would have been taken and I was frantically searching for a place to sit. The class teacher was nice, she spoke sweetly to me and asked my name. I saw one kid gesturing for me to sit next to him. It just so happened that the boy who offered me a seat was Dylan. We instantly hit it off. When you’re 9 and 10 you don’t care who your best friend is or whether you have common interests, but me and Dylan did. After school every day, we would rush home as quickly as our legs would take us so we were home in time to watch our favorite cartoons. My Mom would always have baked goods ready for us as soon as we got home for me and him to binge on. He was like an addition to our family. Dylan struggled a lot when middle school came around, as he was excruciatingly shy and quiet. We got picked on a lot for being weird and quiet. We were outcasts to everyone else. We sat by ourselves for the first year, neither of us having many friends other than each other and Nate. Over the years there, Dylan was my security blanket. He would make me feel better about all the horrible things girls said to me. We boosted each others confidence a lot. We met Eric in seventh grade, and became pretty close rather quickly. We would all hang out every night and play video games.


Me and Eric were standing by our lockers when Dylan approached us.
“Hey, V, guess what.” Eric said through a toothy grin.
“You got invited to a party by a hot girl.” Dylan replied with a slight bit of annoyance in his voice.
Eric’s grin quickly vanished, “Yes. How’d you know?!”
“You’ve told me at least six times, dude. I’m still not going.” Dylan hissed back.
“C’mon, dude, y/n is coming.” Eric nudged Dylan.
Dylan looked towards me in confusion because he knew I hated parties, “I’m being forced too, V.” I shook my head.
Dylan laughed under his breath a little bit, “Nah, dude, I’m not-”
“I swear to God, Dylan. I know where you live and I know how to make pipe bombs.” Eric said in an almost threatening tone but it still had a slight playfulness to it.
“Fuck, fine I go. Don’t blow up my house, Jesus.” Dylan let out a barely audible laugh under his breath and smiled towards us.
“Fuck yeah, V, cya tonight.” Eric smirked like a kid who had just won first place in a race.
Dylan walked off to whatever class he had next, leaving me and Eric alone. I lean against the lockers, throwing my head back and let out an audible groan, “Why is he sooooo cute.” I whimper out.
“This whole ‘crush on Dylan’ thing needs to stop.” Eric sighed.
“Yeah…” I suspire heavily whilst I followed Eric to our next class, “I know.”
“You know what I hate?” I prepared myself for one of Eric’s long-ass speeches about bitches standing in the middle of a corridor or something but the words that escaped his lips were actually quite wise. “When girls wait for the guy to ask them out. Like, Dylan’s a shy guy, he can hardly look at a girl without cumming in his pants. What makes you think he’s going to get the balls to ask you out? Like, I know we’re just friends ‘n’ shit but fuck, y/n, you’re pretty fucking attractive.”
“That was over in middle school, Reb.” I joke.
“Shut the fuck up and listen for a second,” He pauses while he thought of something to say, “What I’d do in this situation is 1 of 3 things. 1,blow their fucking head off, if you can’t have them then no one can. 2, get the fuck over them, no time for moping over some pussy you’re never going to get. Or 3, get over self, walk your ass over to them and tell them you fucking like them. Like a bitch can’t blame you for trying, right?” 


So many questions ran through my head after he said that. Should I really just get over Dylan? How? Why? Should I tell him how I feel? Should I blow his fucking brains out? I know i was thinking irrationally but I really cared about Dylan. Ever since my first year at Columbine High School I had feelings for him. I don’t know when the feelings began but after it had a been like a roller coaster. That’s the perfect simile actually. It was like a roller coaster. When I first started getting feelings for him it was like being in the queue, thinking what the hell am I doing? This is bat shit crazy! Who’s idea was this?! This isn’t safe at all!  And then when I realized my feelings for him was like sitting in the seat, waiting for the safety barriers to come down. Just wanting to jump off and scream ‘I WANT TO GET OFF!’ but then it was too late. The ride started and I couldn’t get off. Every time I would see him was a big, steep drop shooting down; every time I heard his voice it was like going around a big loop; every time he touched me there was a big twist. I wanted him so badly, I just didn’t know what to do. I loved the roller coaster but it terrified me at the same time. Whenever I thought I had it under control, there would be another drop, loop or turn thrown my way. I couldn’t believe something Eric fucking Harris said made me have this epiphany.
****************************************************************************************************
Me and Eric arrived at the house where the party was being hosted. Eric pulled out a cigarette. Needless to say he was shitting himself. None of us had ever been to a proper party before. A party to Eric was 4 of us sitting playing Doom with a bottle of some sort of alcohol but now we were at an actual party. It was filled with at least 50 people.

Eric smoked slowly trying to avoid the huge groups of people within the house. We could feel the vibrations of loud music shake the nearby ground outside. We were nervous, although Eric didn’t want to admit it.
“S-should we just go in?” His voice cracked.
“I guess so…”

I felt like holding his hand as if he had to be guided in by a parent or guardian; my nerves made me want to grab his hand even more. Eric stamped out his cigarette and we etch close to the house.

The scent of cheap beer and the loss of virginity filled my nose, making me cringe. Eric’s eyes scanned the room, most likely looking for the ‘hot’ girl who invited him.
“Maybe we should look around?” I suggested while looking at his scared, little face, which I found adorable.
“Yeah.” his breath rasped in his throat, it sounded as if he just dry-swallowed a big pill.

We didn’t really search, him and I just kind of hid away from the big crowds of people making us feel uncomfortable. Eric had never been good with the ladies, I don’t know how he ever got me in middle school.

We hadn’t really followed a pacific path, we just went where we went and followed one another. I eventually found a drink in my hand and after a few I was beginning to feel a little tipsy. We slipped down some stairs into a room where the party continued, but in much smaller numbers. I, fortunately, glance in a corner where I saw a few familiar lanky figures. I felt relieved to see some people I actually knew in this house, other than Eric. I staggered over to the group of boys. Dylan had his cute little smile on his face as I approached.
“Sup, V.” I beamed at him, wrapping my arm around his neck.
“H-Have you been drinking?” He sounded a little nervous, probably because I was cuddling him.
“Just a little,” I giggle, “ Why? Do I smell like alcohol?”
“No, just…” His sentence trailed off, not really knowing what he wanted to say.
“I think you,” Eric pulled me off Dylan, keeping me balanced, “need to sit the fuck down.”
“Yeah.” Dylan laughed, searching for a place for the group to sit.
****************************************************************************************************
We sat for a while, just cracking jokes and laughing, and before we knew it a bottle of Jack Daniels had come and gone. .
Eric shook the empty glass bottle in the air, “Truth or dare, anyone?” He asks the group.
We each nod out head and Eric spins the bottle.

After a few rounds, it landed on me.
“Truth or dare?” Eric grinned.
I think for a moment, “uhh, dare.”
A smirk grew on his face “Seven minutes in heaven,”
“Eric,” I sigh, “I love you ‘n’ everything, but you’re my best friend.” I place my hand upon his shoulder, “this isn’t middle school anymore and I-”
He swiftly interpreted me, his smirk growing wider and keeping eye contact with me, “with Dylan.”
My face was wiped of all expression, I wanted to knock the look of his smug-ass face look of his face so badly. I pause, trying to comprehend what he had just done. “uhum, what?”
“You heard.” He folded his arms, his eyes flicking from me to Dylan.
“Reb, dude I-” Dylan stuttered nervously.
“A, a, a, it’s a dare. You have to do it.” Eric replied, folding his arms.
“Stop being so childish, Reb.” I slur and rolled my eyes.
“I’m not being childish, you’re just being a pussy.” He sneered.
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not
.” “Are too.”
“Fuck sake, Reb.” At the time I didn’t know whether to punch him or thank him. Then I realised, I was drunk enough to do it without everything being awkward at school if Dylan didn’t like me but if Dylan was into it then I could say I was sober enough to be into it too. Fuck I loved Eric.

“It’s funny,” He snickered, “you’re such a prude, y/n, I knew you wouldn’t do it.”
“Y'know what, fine.” I pulled myself up, “come one, Dyl, let’s go find a closet.” Eric looked genuinely shocked, as did Dylan.

Dylan didn’t have time to comply or protest, before what I had said sunk into his brain I had dragged him up and was already trying to find a free closet. It was more difficult than I originally thought to find an unoccupied closet. Eventually, we did find one, I shoved Dylan and quickly locked the door behind us.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Dylan,” I leaned against the door, “I just wanted to prove Eric wrong.”
“Ah, it’s fine.” He said, sounding slightly disappointed.
“W-Well it’s not that I don’t want, Just I…” I looked down at my shuffling feat, I felt nervous, not too sure what to do.

There was a few moments of silence, during this silence I found myself sliding my back down the door, sitting upon the floor. Dylan eventually joined me. He leaned his head against the door and spoke softly:
“Remember in 5th grade when I had a crush on that Amanda girl?”
“Yeah, what about her?”
“Remember when I spilled apple juice on my pants right in front of her.”
I giggle at the fond childhood memories, “Yeah, you were so sad.”
“Yeah, I know. I think that’s where my fear of walking to women came from,” He ran a hand through his hair, “ That’s why I’ve never been able to confess my feelings for this girl that I’ve liked for a while.”
“Oh,” I look at the ground, fiddling with my hair, “that’s shitty.”
“Yeah. You know,” he took a deep breath, “I used to think you could never get over childhood fears, the little anxieties that would keep you up at night as a kid. Everything seemed so big and important then. Even the smallest thing felt like it would change everything, but it didn’t and it never did. I don’t know anymore. You can’t run away from your fears forever, right?”
“Right.” I nod, turning my head so I was looking at the side of his face.
“I think I’m ready to overcome a really big fear I’ve had for a long time.” Dylan interlocked his fingers around mine, causing me to blush, “I really like you, y/n.” He spoke gently, the words left his mouth softly and soothed my body.
“I really like y-you too, Dylan.” The roller coaster feeling felt really real at that moment. It was exciting, I was loving the twists and turns, even though they made it feel like my heart was going to pound out of my chest.

I leaned in and stroked his cheek softly, which turned his face towards mine. Dylan’s lips brushed against mine, it felt so innocent and so sweet. His lips were like silk that ran across mine. Dylan’s hands caressed my cheek. His movements weren’t lustful, they were kind and I could feel the good intentions in each of his touches. My heart fluttered as he whispered my name into the kiss, he prolonged each syllable which caused me to shudder. My fingers ran through his dirty blonde locks and stroked his soft curls. I pulled him as close as I could, until there was no space between us. Dylan could feel the pounding of my heart in my chest but I didn’t care, I wanted the kiss to last forever. His hand being placed ever so carefully on my cheek, just below my ear, comforted me. He moved one hand to my waist, causing my breath to sharpened. It became heavier, deeper, and more heated. The kiss was becoming more passionate and was rapidly losing it’s innocents.
“Yo, faggots.” A voice, presumably Eric’s, yelled from behind the door of the closet.
“7 minutes already?” He giggled and placed a sweet kiss on my forehead.